


we're both speaking english but we're not speaking the same language

by Herenya



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-14 19:18:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11789718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Herenya/pseuds/Herenya
Summary: Everybody loves a little differently.  Alex and Maggie speak each other's language.





	we're both speaking english but we're not speaking the same language

As much as Maggie hated the trite and cliched phrase, she was a detective, and she did detect. And Maggie spent a lot of time observing Alex Danvers.

It didn’t take long to figure her out. Sure, the agent fancied herself a stoic enigma, and while that was definitely the face she presented to the world, Maggie got to see differently.  
For someone who once said that she “didn’t like being intimate”, Alex was a very tactile person with those she loved. Growing up with Kara, teaching her how to control her powers to a point where she wouldn’t put Alex in the hospital after every hug, made touch easy for Alex to accept, once she accepted you. And that list was harder to get on than any trendy club in National City. Maggie was thrilled to be on that list.

From their first kiss (and oh how her arm burned that night, where Alex had gently gripped and spun her into the kiss; how her face tingled from Alex’s thumb, caressing her cheekbone), and their second (her turn to hold Alex’s neck so gently, so softly, the silk of her hair between her fingers), every kiss involved touch. A caress of the face, a grip on a bicep; Alex always wanted contact.

So when Alex came home after a rough day, a day when Kara was under the sunlamps hurting, or a day when Cadmus eluded the DEO yet again, a day when all of Alex’s demons and insecurities were screaming “not enough” at her? Maggie knew how to help.

It started small. Helping Alex out of her jacket and boots. Some days it was a warm bath and a massage. Other days it was sparring. But most days, it was a quiet meal together, hands intertwined while they ate; it was a night curled up together on the couch, Alex’s head in Maggie’s lap while fingers combed through her hair, scratching lightly at her scalp, tracing patterns on her palms, her arms, her shoulders. It was soft kisses in the muted light of whatever show they’d put on to relax to.

And last, it was Maggie tugging Alex up the three stairs to bed. It was helping Alex into her comfiest pajamas, kisses and light touches punctuating every step. And when Alex finally let herself rest, it was with her beloved detective curled around her, still pressing kisses into her neck, her shoulder, anywhere she could reach; still tracing those nonsense patterns on her skin (and if Alex did clearly make out the words “I love you” several times, well, she let Maggie think she was being sneaky). And she slept.

Alex knew not everybody loved the same. She’s been paying close attention to Maggie from day one (not that she minded observing her detective), and was doing her best to learn Maggie’s language.

Maggie wasn’t averse to touch at all, Alex knew. But the little touches that fuelled Alex didn’t seem to do the same for Maggie. So she watched, and more importantly, she listened. And she learned to hear the things Maggie wasn’t saying.

Between Maggie’s experiences with her family, her town, and her previous relationships, Alex figured out that Maggie didn’t really trust words. Words were easy to throw around, and left no tangible proof of their existence. Her parents, Emily, countless others had sworn that they loved her, only to toss her aside (granted, Emily was a mess of her own making). Maggie wholeheartedly believed Alex when she said “I love you”, but that didn’t mean that Maggie necessarily trusted in the permanence.

Alex saw this and looked for other ways to say those words to Maggie. Clearing out a couple of drawers and some closet space in her apartment had Maggie nearly in tears. On a day that Alex knew was going to be spent on tedious paperwork, Supergirl stopped by the precinct with lunch from a vegan place in Seattle that Maggie loved (and Maggie had tried to tell Alex that it wasn’t necessary; what if someone had needed help while Kara was playing delivery girl? But Alex just gave her the puppy eyes and pointed out that Maggie needed help too, to keep her from having to stay late, and Maggie wanted to argue but melted in the glow of the love in Alex’s eyes).

And on it went. A note in a lunch bag. A warm towel when she got out of the shower on cold mornings. Changing her schedule to accommodate Maggie (this was a big one for Maggie, even if she’d never tell Alex. No one had ever gone out of their way like that for her before). A massage by Alex combined their languages (and Alex’s medical training meant intimate knowledge of human musculature, and made her a pretty good masseuse, so wins all around)

Words were cheap to Maggie, when they were being spent on her (she meant every word she said to Alex, and was slowly learning to accept in kind, but it was hard). Words were cheap, so Alex found a new currency.


End file.
